Thursday, March 7, 2024
Famed for being as New England as it gets, sometimes at the expense of friendship. Our pounding shores – a spectrum of ingredients that could probably make a chowder – can take a toll.
Nevertheless, should you need help, we’ll give you a pat on the back and a wrench on the roadside. Seriously, we know a guy.
We’re familiar with those wetsuit-clad boys who keep cold-water surfers warm and help save the planet at the same time. The concept of Crooked Wetsuits was born in the mind of founder and Massachusetts surfer Mark Crookshank around 2020. CMO Dustin Devlin, a resident of Southern Maine and a surfer himself, has mentioned focusing on solving the perpetual problem of the surfer’s mind at Crookshank. And find a solution.”
In this scenario, the problem was that Devlin, Crookshank, and Marketing Lead Eric Hibbard, like cold-water surfers in New England, were struggling to find suits that could withstand the punishing winter conditions when the waves get even more unpredictable. The team had to pivot to create a lineup of suits tailored for daily surfers while still offering the protection they needed. Additionally, they had to find ways to make their $500 premium suits worth the investment – they too had to find a way to make their suits stand out in the market.
If these seem like high stakes for a brand-new startup, they were. However, New Englanders’ bright minds will never be undervalued – or sent flying into a 35-degree ocean for inspiration. Crooked knew that while other small brands were using Yamamoto neoprene, sourcing the magic ingredient would require building relationships with Japanese manufacturers. Luckily, Crookshank played the game.
It wasn’t a wealthy-fast scheme. Initially, Devlin, who runs a non-profit called Grants, wasn’t considering branding or selling the Mark suits; he just preferred to keep them for himself and a few friends. Devlin’s total game-changer came with his prototype suit, which left its first paddles in the minds of Crooked Wetsuit customers.
They had almost bitten the bullet but Devlin and Crookshank admitted they were entrenched in a trench in the market. Devlin said, “A brand that creates ‘reasonably priced’ suits specifically for cold-water surfers” wasn’t there and the company’s focus had transformed into creating high-performance, locally made wetsuits that “could go head-to-head with anything from New England.”
Creating suits specifically for women has been a special focus for Crooked from the start. Pat Hawley, a rep and head of the Crooked’s community, regularly checks in with the brand’s female ambassadors on fit, performance, and potential improvements. Brown, who more often dives into his camera than his board, says Crooked provides “a wide range of products tailored to different body types” for women and shows the brand’s commitment to fit and perspective.
Crookshank’s commitment to sustainability was also a massive selling point, as he tried to enhance the surfboard industry’s environmental footprint. While surf shops and other companies offer recycling programs, Crooked encourages the process: send in an old suit, and they’ll reward you with a $50 voucher. In the program’s first week, the boys collected hundreds of suits and are currently transforming your 90s neoprene into a down-cycle marvel.”
As someone who learned to surf in the cold waters of New England over 20 years ago, I’ve spent plenty of time in frigid wetsuits that felt more like straight jackets. Before I knew about dental floss and wetsuit lube, I sealed up any leaks with a slap of waterproof duct tape, which surprisingly did the trick. Regardless of why, I’ve amassed a full arsenal of suits for various thicknesses and conditions, all laden with some techno-babble fire-retardant. The no-frills formula of neoprene ensures that the suit works when it matters most.
After temporarily migrating to Southern California, I found myself “forced” to test these suits in warmer waters, but my initial impressions of Yamamoto City were: I’m never leaving. The flexibility of these suits makes paddling a breeze, the fit akin to a hug from gloves, and one of my notes reads: “wicked hot.” A 3/2 suits our current SoCal water temps perfectly, ranging from 57-61 anywhere. A 4/3 felt downright chilly on a “cool” SoCal day, which according to New England standards would be brutal, and I can’t wait to test it out in the next New England winter.
One detail that stood out is the double-seam cuff on the calf, which ingeniously extends the suit to the gloves. I’m not a fan of gloves, but the calf (and ankle) creates a super strong barrier against leaks when you yank on them with a mighty tug. Each seam and zipper feels bulletproof, even when I wrestled it on and off with reckless abandon. I envision Crookshanks – whom Devlin describes as a “tinkerer” – where his final wetsuit faced a double-down where the suit started to fray.
In detail, Crookshanks’ attention to detail creates a distinction: a colored band on the cuff signifies the importance of the suit and helps you line up with your buddies. The logo on the back shoulder completed the 90s skateboarding vibe for me until Devlin described it as a nod to the iconic dance of the grateful dead, which makes sense.
I know, you’ve sworn off the “dancing bear” – but you amuse me. Over a cookout by a campfire, Devlin paints a picture of a typical New England scenario: three months of crappy surf, followed by a sudden zero-wind chill making it a double-overhead. Better yet, you’ve kept to an unchanged diet of roast beef and IPAs for a few months. What gives?
You breastfeed and get out. A conversation interrupted by a mischievous ice bomb’s entry will have you catching waves and laughing as you rise. The subtle demeanor that characterizes – a bit erratic, a bit mischievous, and entirely their own – makes New England more home than any Noah story could.
Looking ahead, the team sees potential in destinations like Ireland and Canada’s cold waters, but they want to be naughty kids, kid, who care about their own city. “If you can handle the heat in New England,” Devlin says, “you can handle it anywhere.”
The last note on my suits reads: “These guys know what they’re doing.”
From a New Englander to Anotha, it’s as big a compliment as you can get.
